Chapter 5
Autumn was a mercurial season in Oklahoma.
Some years, the summer heat would cling on until October, leaving only a week or two to savor the new palette of leaf colors and the crisp coolness of the changing season before winter started.
In other years, winter would show up early like an inconsiderate party guest, freezing the ground and unshed tree leaves with a surprise ice storm.
But this part of Arkansas was different. Trees in the Ozarks shifted to vibrant colors of orange and red at the onset of fall, lining the winding and hilly roadways with a gorgeous, soothing view.
Some of the tension that was normally draped over Denise’s shoulders eased as she took in the foliage. She turned up her car stereo so that Ella Fitzgerald’s smooth vocals could fill the space, and she let the drive relax her.
Fi had encouraged Denise to enjoy the scenery here. She had no idea that Denise was already well acquainted with the area because of the Tranquil Hills Treatment and Rehabilitation Center. And Denise had no plans to tell her.
The center was situated many miles off the highway and was nestled deep in the wooded hills. In the seven years since she’d stayed there, Denise had hardly even revisited it in her mind. It was strange, almost surreal, then, to be passing by there in person.
Remembering was strange too. In some ways, it was like trying to remember how you learned to walk or talk, read or write. Her time there had been transformative, shaping the woman she was now, so different from who she’d been before…
Her GPS voice cut into her musings, directing her to an exit a few miles north, further down the highway than she’d been in the past. She shook away the memories and focused.
In twenty minutes, she’d arrive at the Middle Waters Resort, and she’d need to be on.
Denise Farrington, businesswoman, conference leader, and face of the company.
Her hands grew clammy at the thought, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter, forcing herself to stay grounded and focused on the moment: the smooth leather of the steering wheel, the seat beneath her, the rhythmic bump of the tires over the road adding extra percussion to accompany Ella’s scat singing.
She drew in a deep breath and released it. The conference didn’t have to be this huge, looming ordeal. It was only a task. Only one more task and challenge to handle before she finally got to do what she wanted.
Putting it all in perspective brought her needed comfort as she crossed the final miles and pulled her Lincoln into the parking lot of the Middle Waters Resort.
It was a sprawling collection of wooden buildings interspersed among pine trees. A picnic area and an outdoor pool were visible from the lot. Then front and center was the main building, which was flanked by Northern Red Oaks adorned in orange foliage.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine this place being a refuge for its guests.
Denise got out of the car and put on the dark brown suit jacket that matched her skirt. She did a quick check of her reflection in the driver’s side window and made her way inside.
The lobby had a cozy, rustic feel, complete with a large fireplace framed by wooden bookshelves that overlooked a seating area with several plush chairs and a sofa on a Navajo rug.
As Denise approached the front desk, a young black woman in a Middle Waters polo shirt with a nametag that read, “Bobbette” smiled at her. “Checking in?”
Denise returned the smile. “Yes, but first I need to speak to your events coordinator. My name is Denise Farrington. The company I’m with has a conference scheduled here next week.”
Bobbette’s smile widened. “Ms. Farrington, yes. We’re expecting you. I’ll call Maddox and let them know you’re here. Would you like a water while you wait?”
When Denise politely declined, Bobbette picked up a small two-way radio and started speaking into it. But Denise’s thoughts were diverted by her words, …let them know you’re here.
Despite her intention to put Fi’s nonsense about having a fling with resort staff out of her mind, she remembered her friend saying the manager she’d had a good time with was nonbinary. Was that Maddox?
Naturally, Denise had no intention of mirroring Fi’s indiscretions, but her curiosity was still piqued.
She strolled to the fireplace bookshelf and browsed the titles until, a few moments later, a firm, rich voice spoke from behind her. “Ms. Farrington?”
Denise turned to see a twenty-something person a few inches taller than her walk across the lobby with an even, confident stride.
They had a tan complexion, and their hair was trimmed short but with the front long enough for a few strands to brush their forehead a bit haphazardly.
Their body was lean with broad shoulders that their polo shirt fit snugly across, making Denise suspect firm muscles hid beneath the fabric.
After their relationship had ended, Denise had seen Fi date or have flings with all kinds of women and sapphic people, and she could see why Fi might have been drawn to Maddox.
They exuded a calm, competent energy that, no doubt, more than a few people had found irresistible.
Denise extended her hand, and Maddox took it in a strong but friendly grip. Her gaze traveled up to meet Maddox’s smiling brown eyes, and everything inside her went still.
She recognized those eyes. Had seen them up close before. Not smiling, but sober, the corner of their eyelids crinkled in concern.
Seven years ago.
Denise’s hand went limp, and it dropped to her side. Maddox’s smile faltered, and Denise looked away. Her pulse picked up, and her voice shook as she said, “Would you excuse me for a minute, please?”